


Made of Iron

by damagedpickle



Series: Prompt Fills [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Homophobia, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mutant Tony Stark, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Protective Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damagedpickle/pseuds/damagedpickle
Summary: Can you write about Loki thinking that Tony is a normal human but in reality is a powerful mutant but nobody knows until he is forced to use is power????Also If you give me jealous or possessive Loki extra kudos!!!!
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802845
Comments: 15
Kudos: 339





	Made of Iron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melobski4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melobski4/gifts).



The first time it had happened, Tony had almost missed it. He most likely would have never noticed the change if it hadn't been for Howard. Though Howard had been forcing him into the workshop since the age of nine, he had never been satisfied with Tony's work; today had been no exception. There'd been a problem with his upgrades to Howard's radar systems, some flaw in his design as usual. Regardless of what exactly had been wrong with the code- Tony never really knew what the fuck-up of the day had been- it had been sufficient in evoking Howard's ire. The standard ranting and raving had ensued, but where this reprimand had differed was when Howard had begun hurling tools and machinery aimlessly and Tony had somehow emerged unblemished. It was not as though he had avoided the wrenches, empty shells and occasional drained liquor bottle; he'd been hit several times, in various, painful places- but none had so much as scratched or bruised his skin. Perhaps Tony would have brushed it off as a lucky break in his miserable existence, had Howard not taken a break from his drunken rage to notice the distinct lack of damage he had inflicted. 

"Anthony." Tony had flinched at that- Anthony was never good. Boy, son, generic terms of forged endearment meant indifference, his full name, a very painful conversation in his very near future. "Come here."

Tony scurried to obey.

"You don't seem very banged up after all that, do you?"

Without raising his head or gaze, Tony replied as meekly as possible. "No sir."

"Why might that be? I seem to remember several heavy objects hitting you only very recently." Borderline sarcasm. His temper was worsening. Tony's heartbeat accelerating. 

"I don't know, sir." With great effort, he bit back a snide remark regarding Howard's memory and inebriated state. "I'm sorry, sir."

A stinging, pulsing patch formed on his cheek, where Howard's backhand landed. A muttered "insolent brat" could be heard from under the man's breath. Unsure of what could be said to salvage the situation, Tony simply patted his cheek to check for blood. Sometimes Howard's graduation marks cut into the skin, and needed to be quickly dealt with to minimise the healing period. Rings left very conspicuous marks foundation often couldn't cover. He was relieved when his check came up fruitless, but both concerned and confused to notice a distinct lack of redness where he'd been struck in a discarded sheet of steel acting as a mirror. 

"How..."

A firm hand wrapped around his wrist. "How indeed. Your skin is acting very peculiar today, Anthony. I think we should put it to the test." A shard of glass, a remnant of a Jack Daniel's, was held loosely in his hand. Tony begun to struggle earnestly in his grip.

_No no no no no no-_

His shins flared up in pain.

_Please don't kill me, I swear I'll do better, please-_

He braced himself for the slice, wherever Howard decided it would land. 

But as the makeshift blade slid along the back of his hand, there was no line of crimson following in its wake. A gentle scraping he could feel, but there was no impact, no tear, against his skin. Nor was there anywhere else along his body. 

Howard made sure of that. 

As Tony began to consider his pubescent age and several inflammatory news reports Howard had been watching over the past few months, he came to a very concerning conclusion.

From the rage-fuelled grin that filled Howard's face, he had come to it too. His next words simply served to confirm the suspicion currently causing Tony's stomach to sink.

"Looks like we have a mutant in the family, doesn't it, Anthony?"

* * *

To say Howard had been displeased with Tony's newfound mutation would be a severe understatement. At first, it had simply been an icy, silent rage. He'd dragged Tony from the workshop and locked him in his bedroom all without saying a word, inwardly seething and plotting how best to cover up Tony's latest disgrace. Eventually, he'd worked up the wrath necessary to return and physically enforce the importance of keeping this shameful secret from everyone. Including his mother and Jarvis. Tony accepted the conditions without complaint; he had no desire to degrade himself in Jarvis' eyes. He had already disappointed the man enough.

"I swear, sir, not a soul. No one will ever know about, I'm sure you'll even forget about it soon enough. It doesn't have to change anything." Tony pleaded desperately, scavenging for the scraps of Howard's love. 

But those scraps had been devoured long ago. 

"This changes everything, you're an absolute affront to the Stark name! How am I supposed to work with a mutant heir and fucking sterile wife? But don't worry, I know you're going to keep this quiet. You can't afford another scandal in your name, everyone already fucking hates you."

Tears were being futilely held back. He knew it was true, all the hurtful words Howard hurled out from his stupor, but he hated the reminders. 

"Useless fucking child. Pathetic!"

As Howard expelled the last of his temper with a final kick, Tony swore to himself he'd bury this part of him where no one else could find it. Perhaps if it the hole was deep enough, he'd forget where he buried it and his latest disgrace would die with him.

* * *

Tony was ready to snap this fucker's neck about five minutes ago. The self-serving entrance in Germany had been one thing, but now, because of the prick in the leather and horns, he had to deal with the righteous Captain America and his alien-god counterpart, his Majesty Thor Odinson- or some other bullshit title. Being forced to endure a working relationship with the sole object of his late father's affection had been stressful enough, but Shakespeare-in-the-park was not doing his homeland any favours. While Tony was all for locking up his manic brother somewhere deep underground, enduring an hour-long lecture on the guy's former villainy and dramatic fall from grace had been too much. Together, the pair had driven Tony to the cell of the criminal egotist they had just arrested in the hopes of gaining at least somewhat endurable company. 

A low drawl sounded from the glass cage centred in the room. "Come to gloat?"

In the helicarrier's sterile light, he could see the self proclaimed god much better. If he hadn't seen all the teleportation and mind control in SHIELD's footage, he wouldn't have noticed anything particularly divine about him. Tall, athletic, attractive; sure. But Tony felt 'god' was stretching it at least slightly. 

"I suppose I could indulge myself, now that I'm here. It does very much seem that we have you bested." Though Tony very much felt something was off about the entire situation, confidence was the key to success and all.

A satisfied smirk flashed in response. "A temporary setback, I assure you. But I do not blame you for thinking otherwise, I am sure having the mighty Thor beside you is an incredible reassurance."

At that, Tony outwardly groaned. "Please, let's no go there. Believe it or not, I am actually hear to escape the holier-than-thou bullshit. You may be masquerading as a god, but at least you're making no pretences with your benevolence."

"I assure you, Stark, I am not, masquerading, as you put it; but I do understand the sentiment. It is incredibly draining on one's mind and esteem to be surrounded by those who believe their moral compass swings above all others. Your honesty is refreshing and most appreciated. It is hard to come by such bluntness."

This time, it was Tony's turn to smirk. "I thought you were the God of Lies?"

The taller man sighed, and strode towards the thick glass separating them. 

"The best lies have their basis in the truth. And besides, most of what we like to think of as lies is merely honesty we refuse to accept. Take the witless oaf claiming to be my brother; no matter how often I make apparent the inequalities between us, he insists we are and always will be equals. Perhaps this latest disgrace of mine shall finally prove the divide between us."

 _This latest disgrace of mine._ Tony hated how familiar the concept was to him. And hated himself for how easily he admitted it. 

"Well, prepare to fall in love with me. If you want honesty, there's no blunter a source. I have what leading scientists, such as myself, call 'a lack of brain to mouth filter'. With me, you'll always know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling about you. For instance, though your arse looks rather delectable in those pants, it'd much rather kick than tap it should this glass barrier fail."

"A great shame, you're not wholly unappetising yourself. However, I shall respect your wishes, and remain securely within my cell."

At that moment, an alarm began blearing overhead. The irony was not lost on Tony, who gave a short bark of laughter at the so-called god's poor timing.

"Best of luck Stark, I truly hope you survive. For a mortal, I find you quite intriguing."

Tony was too busy preparing his armour to respond, but he recognised some part of him which felt gratified by the backhanded praise. 

* * *

After the utter shit show that had been the Battle of New York, Tony was in no better mood to deal with the leading blonde duo. While they argued over Loki's fate, Tony sat down beside the god in question and pulled out a flask. Despite bearing no actual injuries- he never did- he could still feel the impact of each blow that had failed to break his skin.

"Your drink, your highness."

With a grimace, it was plucked from his hand and drained in one go.

"I am much obliged, Stark."

Tony rubbed the back of his next awkwardly. Loki was sounding too sincere for his liking. "You looked like you needed it more than me. That being said, I still would have liked some." An eyebrow was raised questioningly at him. "I did just fly a nuke into deep space."

"I suppose, but you have seemingly endless quantities of alcohol; I, on the other hand, may have just had the last drink for the next thousand years of my life- or my life in its entirety. I would offer you compensation, but as you well know, my hands are quite literally tied on the matter." 

Unnecessarily, he jangled his cuffed hands for emphasis. 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it Lokes."

Loki looked at him incredulously. "Lokes?"

"Would you prefer Odinson?"

The god was quick to shut that down.

"Then Lokes it is. You can do one for my name, if you want. Tones is right there. But also, the cuffs aren't coming off. They're meant to be suppressing your mojo, and that's literally the last thing I need loose at the moment."

Loki restlessly fidgeted with the cuffs, twisting the chain around his fingers. There was a sudden vulnerability about him, a pang of self-loathing and resentment Tony knew to recognise. 

"Yes, my magic has often been the last thing desired by those around me. I apologise for the damaged it has caused you and your people."

Tony went to unpack that full 180°, but before he could, Thor procured a fucking metal muzzle and silenced Loki, ending whatever chance Tony had had at perhaps finding a kindred spirit. 

* * *

When Thor returned from Asgard with Loki in tow, Tony couldn’t deny a spark of intrigue reignited in his mind. Though the younger of the pair was clearly psychopathic, there was a shared feeling of neglect and unworthiness in both their souls. Where Loki’s self loathing originated he didn’t know, but if he had to place a bet, the blonde Adonis wasn’t winning any favours in the brother-of-the-year department. It was his dangerous lack of survival instinct and common sense that led him to follow his gut into the maniac god’s cell just a few days after his arrival. 

"I assure you, Stark, my arse has been suitably kicked already. There is no need for you to carry out your threat from the flying SHIELD base." The confident drawl was very much still present, but it was followed by an unexpected pleading buried deep within his words. 

Tony found it familiar on a level he did not want to delve into. "I wasn't here for that Lokes."

"Ahh. Then you must be here to 'tap it', as you so charmingly put it."

Flirting. Better. This, he could work with. That should steer the conversation well away from any grand revelations regarding secret, shameful abilities. 

"Only if you'd let me, but then again, it's not like anyone else here would pass any higher than 'not wholly unappetising'."

"If only I could, but I fear it would only serve to extend my already extensive sentence."

Fuck. The flirting had failed, they were back to serious shit. 

_Don't bite, don't bite, don't bi-_

"Why would that be? I'm willing, you're willing, Asgard's heard of conjugal visits, right?"

_Idiot. Why are these words coming out of your mouth?_

"The issue would not be consent, Stark. Rather our gender."

Oh. "You're all-seeing-eye dude would extend your sentence for that? Damn."

"Indeed. Would it not be a problem on your end?"

Tony shrugged. "Not as much anymore. For me, at least. Others have it worse, and I could always do or be worse."

_Back out now, this is getting way too personal. Stop now. Leave._

"Midgard is a strange realm. Thank you for your company, I hope to enjoy more of it."

_There, an out, take it._

"Yeah, yours too. Not bad for a criminal. See ya 'round, Lokes."

He ran from the prison block, panting. Was there too much or too little air in his lungs? He couldn't decide. He kept this secret for decades, and it was nearly coming out over some wannabe dictator. Blindly, he stumbled to his lab on muscle memory alone. Lab; safety, privacy, security. Every cut, bruise, scrape he should have gotten in there remained buried. No one questioned the lack of blemishes when they saw no reason for him to bear them. It was the same way he used the suits to explain away his peak physique after battles. So as violently as his panic demanded, he started hammering, welding and disassembling anything and everything. Wrecking and fixing until he couldn't feel anything at all. Until he was so worn he wouldn't be able to even visit Loki, let alone let his best-kept secret slip. 

* * *

Tony began to get worried when the team decided to give Loki parole in the form of designated free time in the tower. It was only during the day, but Tony knew it meant he could no longer simply avoid the god by not showing up at his cell. Which meant Loki would ask why he had been avoiding him, and Tony did not want to 'fess up. So, as he always did in stressful situations, he resorted to his liquor cabinet to cope. At 10am. On a Thursday. 

"Stark, I had hoped to be seeing you around. Though it pains me to admit such interest in a mere mortal, you have caught my attention rather completely. May I join you?"

"'s ten in the morning."

"But you are already well on your way to inebriation. And I do not have the flexibility to choose when I drink."

It was a fair point. And alcohol never sharpened anyone's logic. Tony poured a second scotch and beckoned to the floor beside him, despite the several expensive barstools sat neglected behind the bar. They spoke of their past, forbidden love affairs. The disappointment in their fathers' eyes each time they were caught. And the way in which it never held them back. By their sixth drink each, Loki was venting about his brother.

"A Fates-blessed imbecile! Should he have been the youngest, Odin would have had no trouble in marrying him off. Even so, I cannot count the number of lovers he had taken, openly and rather promiscuously. Perhaps, had I not been such a seidr-wielding bastard, just one maiden might have agreed to the sham-marriage Odin so desired for me."

"Wait- what? None of the chics digged your magic mojo?"

Loki turned to him with a threatening glare. "Do not mock me, when I expose myself to you so completely."

Blood drained from Tony's face; he sat their aghast.

"No, no- I'm not mocking you, I swear. I'm just surprised, it could definitely win you plenty here- guys too." Despite the sincerity of his words, Tony winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Midgard has no such stigma?"

"Not for sexy magicians. If you were a mutant-"

Tony considered his useless mouth incredibly lucky its next words were blocked by Loki's kiss. In recognition of his luck, he pushed back hard against the invading lips, and gripped tightly onto the body beside him. They moved together, in a blur, to Tony's bedroom, and for the next hour he thought nothing about how close he had just come to fucking up big time.

* * *

He tried to push the almost fuck up to the back of his mind, but it seemed to keep creeping back to the tip of his tongue. And since Loki now spent all of his free time with Tony, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep his mouth shut. Each time he heard Thor sneak a jab at his 'argr' brother, each time Loki mourned the life he'd never had on Asgard, Tony almost let it slip, almost wrapped his arms tight around his leather-clad love and tell him that his mortal knew exactly how he felt. But every time he went to do it, Howard screamed in his ear; _pathetic, disgusting, disgraceful._

And when some Asgardian fuck-wits showed up trying to provide Loki with extra punishment for his 'deviant' behaviour, it got even harder. Because there they were, hurling slurs and taunts in the couple's direction, their stupid fucking faces alight with glee, arrogance and if Tony squinted slightly, piggishness. Surprisingly- or not so, depending on one's perspective- it was Loki who snapped first.

From some hidden pocket or brace, he pulled out a dagger of sorts and turned it towards the soldiers. "Do not insult Anthony, or you shall find yourself in a very undesirable condition." 

The idiots somehow found it amusing. At least, they did, until one of said idiots cried out in pain at the sudden blade extruding from his thigh. 

Suddenly, it was all dead serious to them. Cries of rage filled the living room, and several axes were raised very threateningly. Heart racing in his chest, Tony ran to stand in front of his god.

”Hold up, hold up guys- let’s just all take a moment to breath. No one needs to get stabbed, impaled or beheaded today. So, let me get this straight; you guys want ‘punish’ Loki, on top of the centuries he’s already been sentenced to in various prisons, because we had sex. Is that right? Seriously?”

His speech had little effect on any of the soldiers. The largest one- which seemed to make him in charge- stepped forward, stoic and expressionless. 

“Yes, that is correct, mortal. If you could please temporarily relinquish custody of the prisoner, we will take him to receive his two-hundred lashes."

Red flashed before him. "His what?"

With the same uncaring tone, the soldier repeated himself. 

"No. He's not going with you."

Now the soldiers began to show emotion. Ideally, it wouldn't have been anger, but Tony rationalised that it was better than nothing. A cool hand pressed against his shoulder, reminding him what he so irrationally fought for.

"Anthony, do not test them. Simply let them take me, I will heal soon enough. I won't let them harm you over something as trivial as this."

"And I'm not letting them harm you. At all."

While the unorthodox couple bickered amongst one another, the soldiers had also been in a group discussion and had come to a decision much more efficiently.

"The prisoner must receive his punishment, should you not wish it to leave, it can be completed on the premises."

Ignoring Loki's protests entirely, Tony walked closer to the group, hands raised high. 

"Nope, not gonna fly, fellas. There will be no whipping of Loki today. As far as local legislation goes, he hasn't even done anything to warrant the punishment." _Please be enough, please-_

"The punishment must be completed."

_Fuck. They're really not budging on this._

Taking a deep breath, Tony steeled himself. A longing glance at his lover, he braced himself.

_For him, it's worth it. For him._

"Then do it to me instead."

As he had predicted, Loki immediately began protesting earnestly. "Anthony, I forbid you. Do not be a fool- you are not a god, you will _die._ "

Tony blocked it out, he had to, less he lose his brief bout of courage. He forced his gaze to remained locked on the soldiers. "This way, you still get to enact the punishment, and if you want to be technical, I was really doing more of the fucking than Lokes anyways, so you can really just blame it all on me if you like. It's better this way; you get to do the punishing and I don't have to kill you on Loki's behalf. Sound good?"

An ominous nod was all that he got in response. He led the soldiers to the closest bathroom, and knelt down in the tub, shirtless. Once the whip-bearer entered the tub, he quickly pulled the curtain shut. He was considerate like that. Less work for the cleaners. His hands were cuffed before him, attached to the tap; a makeshift post. Tony's mouth dried as the reality of his decision hit. _Oh well, too late to back out now. Besides, you know you're going to survive._ He hadn't explored his mutation properly beyond Howard's senseless cutting and beating that first day, but he hadn't come across a limit to it so far. 

A head poked through the curtain. An elegant, intelligent head.

"Anthony, I want you to know, you are an idiot for doing his. Please, I beg you reconsider." When Tony refused, the stubborn head did not withdraw. "Very well, just know that although I forever shall considered you a senseless fool, I will consider the senseless fool who forever has my heart." 

The words almost got Tony out of the tub. Almost. 

"Love you too, Lo- Fuck!" 

The first strike, the second, the third. Though they did not tear his flesh, his nerves felt every blow. By the twentieth blow, he was seriously beginning to doubt his skin's durability. His entire back felt aflame- worse than that. How was he not bleeding? 

By fifty, he was bordering on unconsciousness. The unnamed soldier had Asgardian strength, it was not pleasant to be on the receiving end of. Though he was yet to be marked by the whip, every inch of his back protested without rest. It could not be describing as stinging or burning, it was too much for that. Maybe a word had not yet been invented for this pain. 

As the count reached one-hundred, Tony awoke with a shuddering gasp. He couldn't do it, he couldn't take another blow... but his back was yet to bleed. He stayed quiet, save for the croaking screams that came with each hit. 

He was not awake when they reached two-hundred. He hadn't been for seventy lashes. He did not awake until ten minutes after, when the soldiers had left, when Loki had finally been able to attend to him. He woke to icy water assaulting his still smouldering back. They did not speak to one another in this time, Loki worked in silence and Tony did too, unsure of the words appropriate for the situation. When Tony no longer felt as though the devil had been dancing atop him, he turned off the gushing tap. The mutual silence was eventually broken by the utterly confused and concerned trickster.

"Anthony... how? How are you not injured, let alone dead? I felt for sure I had lost you." As if still unsure of Tony's legitimacy, he reached out to cup the other's cheek; Tony responded in kind. 

"I'm so sorry, Lokes. I really did mean to tell you, you're the first person I've ever trusted enough to even consider telling- I want you to know that. The thing is, I'm... I'm a mutant. I've got some sort of impenetrable skin, I don't really know, I haven't played around with it. It's not a very popular thing, here on Earth."

Understanding glinted in Loki's eyes. "Hence, Iron Man. You are truly an incredible mortal, Anthony. Who knows of your condition?"

"No one. I really meant it, you are the first person I've ever told. Howard, he was the reason I discovered it, but he's dead now. The secret died with him; he made sure of that. Please, don't tell anyone else, I can't bear anything else getting out about me."

Pale hands closed over his calloused ones. 

"Of course, my love, you know I understand."

"Thank you."

Silence returned, there was nothing left to say. The closeness between their intertwined bodies said more than words could. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any of your own prompts :)


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